


find me in the drift

by shitgekis (payroo)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payroo/pseuds/shitgekis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ensemble Pacific Rim AU with a focus on Mikasa, Annie, Jean, and Eren.</p><p>Mikasa is not drift compatible with Eren. She is understandably upset, but that won't stop her from becoming a Ranger.<br/>Annie is determined to bring nothing into the drift, but piloting a Jaeger means trusting your partner.<br/>Jean is under no illusions about the future of humanity, but he'll do his damnedest to avoid meeting a disappointing end. He owes Marco that much at least.<br/>Eren is a loose cannon, a force of vengeance just waiting to be directed at the nearest kaiju, but his volatile personality won't make it easy.</p><p>Erwin knows most of his Rangers are barely adults, practically kids. He loves them, but he won't hesitate to sacrifice any of them for the sake of humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we are rangers, damnit

_I'm sorry, but you and Eren Jaeger are not drift compatible._

The words echoed in Mikasa's head as she staggered back to her quarters, fighting back tears. Eren trailed behind her, sullen and silent. It wasn't fair. It had to be a mistake, an equipment malfunction, a fluke. She had pushed her body and mind to the limit without complaint for the last six months, just for the sake of staying by Eren's side. She was the top-ranked cadet in her year in the academy, for fuck's sake. Why was the only test she cared about the one test she could not pass?

Eren hadn't seemed half as upset as she felt. From the brittle, hazy mess of emotion that bled from his mind into hers, she could feel only disappointment that his revenge on the kaiju would have to wait.

Mikasa, on the other hand, had felt the beginnings of panic. It was the same feeling she had when she witnessed her second kaiju attack ten years ago. Grisha was nowhere to be found, Carla was crushed beneath an immovable pile of rubble. Mikasa had left her where she fell, sharp pangs of panic stabbing through the guilt at her chest as she searched for Eren. 

Eren, who had saved her life two years prior during the kaiju attack that killed her parents, who had crouched next to the collapsing tunnel she had been cowering in and calmly talked her through it, had stayed there despite the noise and chaos and smoke and terror until she emerged from that hell. 

Those few moments before she found him had been the most terrifying of her life. And now Eren was going to be taken from her again. There was no knowing what would happen if she was not there at his side to keep him safe.

When she said as much to him, he reacted as she had feared (and if she was going to be honest with herself, had expected) he would.

“I'm not your little brother or your child! I went through the same training from hell you did. I can take care of myself.”

“But you'll be in danger without me!”

“Damnit, Mikasa! Didn't you hear what Levi told us at the debriefing?”

She had. Levi had told her that she was too overbearing, that she was unwilling or unable to let Eren carry his due amount of neural load. Eren had only managed to control a quarter of his share, and Mikasa had ended up with a nosebleed and a headache.

Eren's furious expression softened, and the hurt that replaced the rage was somehow even worse. “Piloting Jaegers is about mutual trust. Mikasa, I know you love me. But you don't trust me.”

Mikasa couldn't find anything to say in response. Eren just shook his head and entered his room, closing the door after him.

She entered her own room and crumpled onto the bed, clutching the scarf Eren had wrapped around her the day her parents died. It offered little comfort now, as it only reminded Mikasa of her failure. Despite everything, she still wasn't strong enough to protect the people she loved.

She lay there for who knew how long, until a knock at the door interrupted her reverie.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened it with still-shaking fingers.

“Oy, Ackerman. You were supposed to report to the Kwoon at fourteen-hundred hours. What are you still doing here?” Levi was as cut and dry as ever. Then again, with a reputation like his, he didn't need courtesy.

“Sorry, sir, I lost track of time.”

Levi narrowed his eyes and focused his glare on her face. “Ugh, you've still got a bit of dried blood under your nose there. I know the morning's trial drift was hard on you, but get it together. You are a Ranger, Ackerman.”

Mikasa pulled a salute even as she wiped at her nose with her other hand. “Yes, sir!” Levi still didn't look satisfied.

“You look like you still have something you want to say. Well, out with it. No use trying to hold it in and constipate yourself.”

“Sir, I want to try drifting with Eren again. I don't believe that we aren't drift compatible. I've known him for years, he's my closest - my only - family. I thought strong bonds were better suited for compatibility. It doesn't make sense; there must have been some problem with the equipment or the calibration-”

Levi held up a hand. “Armin would be hurt, that you don't trust him to do his job. And are you really trying to imply that Hanji would make such a basic mistake? Ackerman, I know what I saw in there. I said as much to you already. 

“You don't trust Eren to do his part. The whole point of the two-pilot system is to equally distribute the neural load. Equal being the operating word. I didn't see any equality in the cockpit this morning. Eren carries too much rage, brat that he is, and your response is to try and smother it. To be honest, if you two had lasted two minutes together I would have been surprised.”

She knew he was right, but she couldn't accept it. “Sir, I need to protect Eren-”

“The hell you do!” Levi raised his voice and Mikasa flinched – Levi rarely broke his usual bored drawl. “You and Eren are both Rangers. You are sworn to protect humanity. All of humanity, not just one Eren Jaeger. If you don't think you can live up to that oath, then you should pack your things and go cower behind that broken wall. So tell me, are you a Ranger or not?”

She swallowed hard and thought of her dead parents. Of Carla Jaeger, crushed beneath a pile of rubble. Of Grisha, whose body was never found.

“I am, sir!”

Levi gave her a curt nod. “Good. Report to the Kwoon immediately, er, as soon as you've cleaned off your face I mean. I've got a good-sized list of potential candidates waiting for you. You have the makings of a damn good pilot, Mikasa. It'd be a damn shame if you let that go to waste.”

And so Mikasa wiped away her dried blood, blinked back her tears, and went to the combat room as a Ranger.

-

Jean paced the length of his new (old) quarters. It was still seven strides across, but the space seemed bigger somehow, emptier without Marco's presence to fill it up.

He sighed and sat on the bed, suddenly unsure what he was even doing here again. It had been three years since Aberrant had torn Marco and half of Jean's mind with him out of Trost Tempest, but he still felt the loss like an open wound in his psyche.

Jean had long since given up on a future for humanity. Trost Tempest had been one of the best teams, and that wasn't just his pilot ego talking; three solo and four team kills were nothing to laugh about. But Trost Tempest had been defeated, and so had countless other teams just as good or better in the long war of attrition against the kaiju. All it took was a single mistake, and even the best pilot teams were finished in an instant.

The months following Marco's death were still a haze in Jean's memory. He vaguely recalled dragging what was left of Trost Tempest to shore, Marco's final moments of fear and panic and pain etched into his being. There had been a seemingly endless stream of hospital beds. Jean remembered being unable to move the right side of his body, the doctors saying something about such a strong connection being abruptly terminated. The meds and therapy got him walking again, but there was no way he was ever going back into a Jaeger cockpit. 

And so he drifted through an empty facsimile of life. As he was still fairly able-bodied, despite the occasional numbness and pain in his right side, he eventually ended up doing work on the section of the Wall of life known as “Maria” (the nickname he was never sure was religious or ironic or both). The hours were long and hard and dangerous, and Jean was usually tired enough at the end of the day that he could fall asleep as soon as he hit his bunk. 

When he dreamed he was back in the Drift, clinging desperately to the memories that were so much more vivid than life. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he could even slip into that state while on the job. More than once he had almost slipped from some precarious perch while lost in memories (he didn't think it would have been much of a loss). The doctors and shrinks had warned him about “phantom Drift syndrome” before he was discharged. As far as Jean knew, he was the only case. Most Jaeger pilot teams were lucky enough to die together in the event of defeat.

He passed his days. That was about all that could be said of his life. Jean had stopped caring, or had forgotten how to care. He stayed working on the Wall for lack of anything else to do, living for those brief moments when he could lose himself in his and Marco's shared memories.

Jean hadn't yet left the newly completed Wall when the enormous category-four Colossus arrived to smash through. He cowered behind a concrete slab as the massive kaiju roared, sending deep vibrations tearing through every nerve in his body. He couldn't stop his hands shaking as he stared up at the leviathan, and with a jolt of shock he realized that he didn't want to die, not like this, powerless and on the verge of pissing himself in terror. 

And then Pegasus Freedom was on the scene, and every heavy metallic punch and blast of plasma cannon filled Jean with exhilaration. He watched Pegasus tear through Colossus's defenses with the foreign feeling of hope rising in his chest. He had fought by Pegasus's side before, but he had never been on the ground as a civilian. 

At last Pegasus Freedom unleashed the decisive plasma cannon volley into Colossus's chest, and the kaiju fell with a dying shriek to the ground. As the helicopters arrived to lift the victorious Jaeger away like some ascending angel, Jean realized with a start that there were tears in his eyes. He wiped them away with trembling fingers. Jean hadn't cried since he was a kid, but suddenly he was openly weeping, tears and snot and spittle dripping down his filthy shirt as he sobbed. All the emotions that had been deadened since Marco's death were spilling out all at once, and Jean lay crying in the rubble and dust, pathetically glad to still be alive. 

The next day he gathered all the meager savings he had and placed a call to Marshall Erwin.

That had been three months ago. Since returning to the PPDC Jean had been subjected to the arduous task of getting back into shape both physically and mentally. The former had been much more successful than the latter, but there was such a dire shortage of experienced pilots at this point in the rather one-sided war that even a traumatized has-been was a valuable asset.

He only hoped his mind wouldn't fall apart in the upcoming drift trials. Just the thought of drifting with someone that wasn't Marco filled his insides with dread and wrongness, but he pushed the feeling down.

Jean was under no illusions about the future of humanity, but he would do his damnedest to avoid meeting a disappointing end. He owed that much to Marco.

He stopped on the way out of his room in front of the wrinkled photo he had pinned up on his wall. He pressed his fingers to his lips and then brushed them against Marco's smiling face. A sentimental gesture, but Jean never claimed to be strong. “Wish me luck,” he said to Marco, and he headed out to hopefully meet his new copilot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another Pacific Rim AU! Yet another dead Marco! Sorry about that and thanks for reading. 
> 
> Also, because I'm a huge dork, I made all the Jaegers. Here's Pegasus Freedom (formerly piloted by Erwin and Levi, currently piloted by Levi and Petra.)
> 
>  
> 
>   
> Here's Trost Tempest:  
>   
> more to come as they are introduced!


	2. let's dance

Mikasa wiped the sweat from her brow as she waited for Marshall Smith to call the next candidate. The sheer physicality of combat had done wonders to clear her mind. There was a comfort in knowing that she was strong in this respect at least, that she could trust her painstakingly earned muscles to do their job and take down opponent after opponent.

Levi, standing by Erwin's side, didn't look too happy, however. His eternally wrinkled forehead wrinkled even further as he crossed out name after name on his clipboard. 

Mikasa couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as the next obviously intimidated candidate picked up his staff and stepped into the ring. Hand-to-hand came naturally to her, and it had to be humiliating to be defeated in so few moves. She approached the boy slowly, intending to let him at least get a hit in before taking him down.

“Ackerman. Don't go easy on anyone. Your whole problem is that you're a beast. Only way we can find you a partner is by finding a fellow beast.”

Levi was too sharp for his own good. Mikasa gave her opponent an apologetic look and toppled him with a quick sweep to the ankles.

“Let's see how you do against Ms. Annie Leonhardt.”

A short blonde girl with a pronounced nose walked to the front of the line. Mikasa could already tell she was a cut above the rest just by the way she held herself. Her pale blue eyes were completely calm as she stared Mikasa down, staff raised in a perfect stance.

“Begin!” shouted Levi. Mikasa lunged forward, executing the same maneuver that had taken out nearly half the candidates in the first move. But Annie surprised her, stepping aside at the last second to hook her staff onto her own and throw her weight off balance. As Mikasa stumbled to regain her balance, Annie brought a perfectly controlled strike down on her. The staff stopped barely an inch away from her face.

“One, zero,” said Annie, voice impassive. A collective “ooh” came from the defeated candidates as Mikasa gathered herself for the next round. Despite herself, she found her competitive instincts piqued.

Mikasa was more wary this time, circling Annie for a bit before attacking again. She anticipated Annie's counter and feinted around it, bringing her staff level to Annie's chest.

“One, one,” she said, and Annie's eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she stepped back for the next round.

Now Annie attacked first, darting forward with an aggressiveness Mikasa didn't expect. She thrust her staff once, twice, but Mikasa managed to dodge each blow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Annie's leg come up in a sweeping high kick that she was only barely able to bring up her arm to block, wincing at the heavy impact against her forearm. Her opponent may have been tiny, but she certainly didn't lack for power. She had only her right hand on the staff now, and Annie quickly took advantage of the opening to knock her staff aside and point her own at her now-exposed neck.

“Two, one,” and the faintest hint of a smile played on Annie's previously expressionless face. Mikasa huffed and drew back, almost afraid to admit to herself how much she was enjoying this. It was rare that she found a sparring partner who could keep up with her, much less have her at a disadvantage. 

Their next bout went for a while without either of them moving to attack as they measured up each other, trying to anticipate the other's movements. Mikasa barely noticed the pleased smirk on Levi's face as she carefully moved her feet forward, anchoring herself down to each toe on the floor as she focused on Annie. The other girl returned the attention with equal intensity, every muscle standing out on her pale skin.

Clearly Annie was used to taking down opponents larger than herself, so Mikasa reasoned she would be less equipped to deal with an attack on her own level. With this rationale in mind, she swept her staff in a downward arc towards Annie's legs. It wasn't that easy, of course, as Annie swiftly side-stepped and dealt a blow of her own, which Mikasa blocked with a resounding clack of their staffs. 

They traded blow for blow, with neither girl gaining the upper hand. Mikasa blinked away the sweat that was starting to drip into her eyes, and was satisfied to see Annie red-faced and sweaty with exertion as well. Time seemed to come to a standstill as they backed up again, concentrating only on the other.

She descended with a fury onto Annie, their staffs cracking against each other as she attempted to overwhelm the smaller girl through sheer brute force. Annie shifted her weight to the side, and almost by instinct Mikasa could feel her gearing up for another high kick. She slid forward and under Annie's leg and rested her staff in front of her forehead.

“Two, two,” she panted. Annie's eyes widened again.

The Kwoon burst out into applause, and it was like a dam breaking. Mikasa felt more exhausted than she should have been. Levi was still wearing that smirk as he scribbled something onto his clipboard. Marshall Smith leaned down to whisper something to him, then straightened and nodded at the two girls.

“Ackerman, Leonhardt: looks like you just found your partners. Report to the lab for drift trials.”

-

Jean had been trying to focus on watching the fights, but some hotshot was yammering behind him and it was driving him up the wall.

“I won't stop until I've killed every last kaiju,” the kid was saying to the guy unlucky enough to be standing next to him. “I'm going to get revenge for my family, no matter what it takes!”

Jean's temper flared and he spun around to glare at him. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

The boy glared right back at him with intense green eyes and ridiculous eyebrows. “Eren Jaeger. What's it to you?”

“Well, _Eren Jaeger_ , do you even realize how stupid the words coming out of your mouth are?” Distantly Jean knew that he probably shouldn't tear into him so much, not when he would come to experience hell firsthand soon enough. But Jean had never had a high tolerance for bullshit, even less since his better half died. “Do you really think you're impressing anyone by talking big like an idiot?”

“The fuck's your problem?”

People were starting to stare now. Jean couldn't care less at this point. “Even the best pilots make mistakes eventually. As for the kaiju, they're fucking unlimited. Listen, it takes us months at the very least to build a single Jaeger. Kaiju? Popping through the breach more and more often. This isn't a war we're going to be winning anytime soon. Get it out of your head that you're gonna kill every kaiju. What a fucking joke. Overconfident jackasses like you end up being the first to feed the kaiju.”

Eren opened his mouth to no doubt furiously retort, but he closed it suddenly and stared even more intensely at Jean's face.

“Shit, you're Jean Kirschstein,” he said after a moment, and Jean couldn't stop himself from flinching. Pilot records were public knowledge, but as the golden age of Jaeger pilots had passed, he hadn't expected to be recognized. “Trost Tempest. Co-pilot Marco Bodt.”

“Yeah, that's me,” Jean threw a mock salute, painfully aware of the weird mix of awe and pity showing on the faces around them.

Eren squinted at him, expression indecipherable. “God, you look like shit.” And then Jean recognized the expression on his face; it wasn't pity or awe, but something like disgust. “What happened to you? Where have you been all these years while good pilots were dying left and right?”

Jean was spared the shame of admitting he had been hiding on the wall when Levi called his name. He vented his lingering irritation on the painfully green cadets. Jean had barely ranked in the top ten in hand-to-hand in his graduating class at the Academy, but actual battle experience was a far better teacher than even the most vicious Kwoon combat master and he dispatched the recruits brutally and efficiently.

He took the chance between rounds to stretch out his bad side. His right arm still didn't have quite the strength or flexibility as his left. The doctors said it was neurological, but it sure didn't feel that way, not when he could feel the ache all the way down to his bones. 

Not that he was going to let it stop him. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he held the stretch to the end of his count. It was only a shadow of what Marco had experienced, after all.

The next candidate was none other than his recent acquaintance Eren Jaeger, staring at him with that infuriatingly self-righteous expression on his face.

Jean was going to enjoy this.

At Levi's signal, he lunged forward and smashed his staff into Eren's with enough force to send the other's flying out of his hands.

“That's one for me,” Jean stepped back into the starting position, kicking the staff into the air back to Eren, who caught it with a scowl.

Eren lasted longer the next bout, even coming close a few times to landing a hit. Jean had to admit the kid had talent. But his overabundance of energy made him sloppy, and Jean easily cut through his defenses to send him on his back with a neat sweeping strike. Unruffled, he bounced up again for the next round.

This time, Eren went straight for Jean's right side. Too late Jean realized that he must have noticed his slower reaction speed there. Jean hissed and spun to defend himself, angling his weak side away from the assault, but he was shaken both by Eren's brazenness and his own lingering weakness.

Damn, and he thought this brat had pissed him off earlier.

Fueled by rage, Jean moved in for the final blow, only to find himself stopped by a staff at his chest. He started. When had that happened?

“One, two. I'm catching up, Kirschstein.” Eren half-grinned, half-grimaced at him. 

Okay, it wasn't even about trying to find a partner at this point. Jean just wanted to beat the shit out of him.

He let out a yell as he put all of his strength into a downward strike. Eren dodged the staff, letting Jean's own weight carry him forward as he spun around to kick in in the right side. 

Pain lanced through Jean's gut at the blow, and he crumpled to the ground.

“Impressive, Jaeger,” Levi drawled. “Not bad for a kid fresh out of the Academy.”

Erwin turned to look straight into Jean's eyes. Thankfully there was no pity there, unlike how many of the others he had known before looked at him now. “Jaeger and Kirschstein, report to the lab for your trial drift.”

Jean shot Levi an _are you fucking kidding me_ look. Levi just blinked and went back to his clipboard.

Eren offered a hand along with a scowl, and Jean reluctantly let himself be pulled back onto his feet.

He hoped to hell they wouldn't be drift compatible, but knowing the way his life worked, odds were that they would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, the obligatory Kwoon fight scenes. If only I had Rinko Kikuchi and Charlie Hunnam to act them out for me... sadly, this will have to do for now. I hope they were not too much of an ordeal to go through. Thanks for reading!


	3. you hate and you hate and you hate and so you soldier on

Eren could hardly contain his excitement as he followed Jean to the lab. He was finally going to be a pilot. Sure, he had his reservations about his potential partner, but Eren had been anticipating this moment for years. He wouldn't be powerless against the kaiju any longer.

The man in front of him, on the contrary, had reluctance written all over his body language. Eren frowned at his back. He had admired him once, had spent late nights with Trost Tempest's pilot profiles open on his laptop, marveling at how these boys only four years older than him were already racking up kaiju kills. Looking at Jean's handsome, confident smile in the photos, Eren had found something to aspire to.

But now Jean was a shadow of the pilot Eren had looked forward to seeing on the news. He looked much older than his twenty-two years, his naturally lean face now on this side of haggard. And there was that barely perceptible limp on his right which Eren had shamelessly exploited during their fight. Hey, he wanted to be a pilot more than anything, and he was willing to do whatever it took.

“So what the fuck happened to you, anyway?” Eren broke the awkward silence. Maybe he was being unnecessarily harsh, but Jean had been just as bad earlier.

Jean turned his head to shoot Eren a withering look over a bony shoulder. “You mean besides my co-pilot getting killed while still connected to my mind?”

“I'm sorry about that, but where have you been the past three years? Didn't you want revenge?” Eren remembered watching the report, his heart sinking as he saw the ruined husk of Trost Tempest and the brief footage of a traumatized-looking Jean Kirschstein. But he couldn't understand his inaction for so long. After his mother died, Eren's desire for vengeance against the kaiju had only crystallized into a diamond-hard, all consuming need.

Jean scoffed. “Revenge? On the kaiju? Give me a fucking break. You might as well try and take revenge on earthquakes or tsunamis. We're not ever going to win against them, not in the long term.”

“Yeah, you said as much already. Sounds to me like you've just given up.” Eren didn't bother disguising the disgust that dripped into his voice.

Jean's lips drew back in a snarl. “Listen Jaeger, I don't need or want to be your friend, so you can stop trying to analyze me or fix me or whatever the hell you think you're doing. Just shut the fuck up so we can take this damn drift test. It's not like we're gonna be compatible anyway.”

Eren was sorely tempted to keep needling him, but they had reached the lab already and Armin was coming to greet them.

“Eren! You're back again today?” Armin's eyes widened as he saw Jean. “Oh, hey Jean! I didn't realize you were doing compatibility testing already.”

“Hi to you too, Armin,” Jean gave him a small, tight smile. The expression looked out of place on his face. “You know this guy already, I take it?”

“We're childhood friends and former Academy classmates.”

Armin had lost his grandfather to the same kaiju attack that orphaned Eren, and he had joined the Academy at the same time as Eren and Mikasa. Though he went through much of the same physical training they did, his strength lay in his mental aptitude and he was quickly snatched up by the J-Tech department before he even graduated. Now he was already working as a neural bridge operator, working to connect the brains of his former classmates.

“How do you know Kirschstein?” Eren asked.

“I worked with Jean when he came back on his-” Armin caught himself and looked hesitantly at Jean. “Um. Stuff.”

“It's okay, Armin, if this guy's going to be getting into my head he'll know it all anyways. Basically, my head has been majorly messed up ever since Marco died while still in drift with me. I still wasn't at one-hundred percent when I left the PPDC, so when I came back three months ago Armin was assigned to my case to get my brain combat-ready again. Thankfully, Armin is a genius,” Armin blushed and ducked his head, “which is why I've been cleared to stand here at all right now. So you don't have to worry about going into a coma or something, but you're still gonna have to take the right side, Jaeger.”

Jean twisted his face into a wry smirk, but Eren didn't miss how his right fist clenched at his side.

“I can deal with that.” Eren impatiently turned to Armin. “Let's do this already.”

Armin ushered the two of them into chairs covered with a plethora of criss-crossing wires. Once they were seated, he lowered the neural helmets onto their heads and set to work putting the electrodes in place.

Eren sat patiently as best he could. He had already gone through the same process this morning with Mikasa, albeit with disastrous results. As much as he wasn't sure about Jean, he just wanted to move on to the next stage so badly it ached. There was no way he was going to let the morning repeat itself. He would take his fair share of neural load if it killed him.

Armin gave him one last reassuring smile and a quick squeeze on the shoulder before lowering the face shield. Eren could feel his pulse quickening in anticipation already.

“Okay, try to relax. Initiating drift in five, four, three, two, one...”

And for the second time that day, Eren felt his consciousness flip inside out and merge with a foreign presence.

_“I'm sorry, that's all you get with those ration cards.” Gnawing hunger in his belly. The dryness of the crackers and the bitter aftertaste of emergency nutritional paste. His mother eating less so her growing son could be full. I'm going to become a pilot so that she can live a comfortable life inland._

_Curling around the pain in his stomach as he was punched over and over when the bullies had recovered from his initial suicidal assault. Armin crying behind him. Ignoring his bloody nose to stand up again. It wasn't about winning; it was about refusing to lose._

_He ran his mouth too much to have many friends. Meeting Marco in the 9th grade. His foul moods tempered. Smiling and laughing more. Playing video games together late into the afternoon. Studying for tests and sharing notes. Telling each other their dreams._

_The first kaiju attack. The little girl crouching in the tunnel. It's collapsing around her. Why won't she come out? If she doesn't try, she'll die. She just has to try. I have to help her._

_He and Marco decided to join the Jaeger Academy together. “Pilots drift in pairs, right? And we're already best friends, so we're ahead of the game before it even starts.” Late nights studying together, extra sparring sessions to get an edge on the competition. Sore and sweaty and exhausted and young and utterly happy. The quiet joy/pain of nursing a secret crush on your best friend._

_Air-drying the laundry. Bright white against the sun. “Electricity rationing,” his mother said. He didn't know what it meant. Playing a childish game peeking in and out of the sheets flapping in the wind. His mother's laughter. Fresh scent of detergent and summer grass in his nostrils. Mikasa, silent and sure and a solid enough fixture in his life it was like she had always been there. Father's round glasses and kind knowing smiles._

_The first drift. Jean desperately trying to hide his growing feelings, only to have them be the first thing Marco picked up on. Marco backing off in surprise, the crushing fear of rejection and despair tingling all the way down to Jean's fingertips. A blip in the charts, the J-Tech crew worried about failure. Then Marco reaching back through to him, warm and reassuring. “One of the strongest connections we've ever seen.” They kiss for the first time that night. Marco's broad shoulders in his arms. Marco's hands firm on his waist. The kiss turns into something more. Marco's solid weight on top of his. As natural as breathing._

_The bone-chilling roar of Titan. Cement slabs and shattered glass raining down from ruined buildings. Salt spray from the ocean sharp in his lungs. Where's Mother and Father? Where's Mikasa? It's so big he can't see the sun-_

_Colossus smashing through the Wall. I don't want to die like this. I don't want to die like this. I should have died with Marco. I don't want to die alone. I don't want to die like this I don't want to die-_

_I can't find Father. Where's Mikasa? Is that Mother- oh God this can't be happening there's so much blood. Choking on smoke and ash-_

_The sudden vacuum in his head like the gaping hole in the side of Tempest even as Marco's last scream rings in his ears. Pain rushing in to fill the vacuum as cold water slops into the Conn-Pod chills him to the bone-_

_The concrete is too heavy to push aside. Keep pushing anyway even though your own blood is starting to drip and mingle with her blood on the ground-_

_Marco... Marco... your mind desperately reaching to find its mate and finding nothing-_

_“It's no use” Mikasa is screaming into your ear. You're just pounding the concrete at this point. Your fists leave bloody prints on the slab. She grabs you around the waist and hauls. You hate her so much in this moment-_

_Can't move can't think can't even breathe Aberrant is roaring coming for another attack Marco's gone it doesn't make any sense-_

_Titan is coming closer your strength is gone Mikasa drags you away and you can't even fight her you clench your bloody fists and raise them uselessly against the massive form that blots out the sky, you hate you hate you hate-_

_Hate and pain and powerlessness and terror - you don't know which is Jean's and which is Eren's, you feel all of it as your own-_

“Okay, I'm cutting this short!” 

And suddenly Eren was blinking into the damp darkness of his helmet, drawing in rapid breaths like a drowning man.

“Eren, it's over! You're back now.” Armin's voice sounded tinny and distant even after he yanked the helmet away. The sudden blinding light made his eyes water, but there were already tear tracks running hot down his face. 

Eren took a shaky step out of the chair, crumpled to the ground, and vomited until even after his stomach was dry and heaving. He was dimly aware of Armin running to fetch a mop.

Marco's face was still etched into his mind. He had never even met him, not really, but he felt his loss so keenly it ached. A sob escaped from somewhere in his chest.

“Just breathe. Focus on the ground beneath your feet.”

Jean crouched next to him and put a hand on his back, patting firmly and slowly. It was surprisingly comforting, and eventually the world stopped spinning long enough for Eren to spare a shaky glance in his direction. Jean didn't look much better than Eren felt, his thin face pale and bloodless and covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

“I'm guessing this isn't going to work, then?” Eren managed to croak, bracing himself for yet another disappointment.

“Actually,” Armin said as he finished mopping the floor, “the drift connection was very strong, up until both of you started chasing the RABIT at about the same time. As long as you two are able to get past that, I'm pretty sure the Marshall will want you paired up. It felt completely different from with Mikasa this morning, right Eren?”

Eren nodded in response. Trying to drift with Mikasa had been like looking through a camera with Vaseline smeared over the lens while trying to run through sand. But this time, he had seen Jean's thoughts and memories so clearly it was like they were his own. The ache in his chest as he thought of Marco was a testament to that.

“It's normal to feel like shit after your first drift,” Jean said, getting to his feet. He offered Eren a hand (his left, Eren noticed) and he accepted, letting himself be pulled upright.

The air between them was strange, neither of them meeting the other's eyes. Not one hour ago Eren had wanted nothing more than to knock Jean on his ass. Now, he knew him almost unnaturally intimately. Eren supposed he understood Jean's somewhat defeatist viewpoint now, though he still didn't agree with it or even have to like him. But he knew him.

“Anyways,” Armin said, thankfully interrupting the awkward silence, “you'll have to do a few more days of drift trials and combat sims before you can attempt neural handshake with Trost Tempest.” He grinned shyly at Jean, who had frozen at the mention of the Jaeger's name. “Sorry, I didn't get the chance to tell you earlier. Tempest has just completed her restoration and renovations.”

Jean's face cracked into a genuine smile and for a moment he actually looked his age. “I miss the old girl. Hey Eren! You better not mess her up.” Eren was about to bristle in indignation before he realized that Jean was joking. 

“Right,” Armin was flipping through a computer screen, going through numbers and readings faster than Eren could comprehend. “You two should spend as much time together as you can before the first neural handshake. Even when strangers have a successful drift, it helps to get to know each other the normal way as well. You'll be less prone to nasty surprises of trauma making you chase the RABIT if you've already talked about them, after all.”

Eren made a face, causing Jean to nudge him with his shoulder. 

“Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot,” Jean began, clearly forcing the words from his mouth. “But I think we can make this work. I want to get back in that Conn-pod as badly as you do. And we're going to have to work together for that. So uh, let's try to start over.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

Eren gripped his hand in a firm shake and willed himself to look straight into Jean's eyes. “Deal... _partner._ ”

Jean grunted in assent. “All right. We should get ourselves some food. Drifting'll burn through those calories like crazy. But first,” and he wrinkled his long nose, “you need to take a shower. And change your clothes! Armin only mopped the floor, and you still stink of puke.”

And despite the remnants of acid and nausea still burning at Eren's throat, he grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the movie had them going straight to the robot for the first drift, but that seems pretty... risky... I imagine if they weren't quite as strapped for time they'd do a separate drift compatibility test first, preferably without the risk of accidentally activating a palm cannon that will fry the entire Shatterdome.  
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far! There will be more Annie and Mikasa coming up next chapter. :)


	4. you can't go home again

The past week with Eren had been trying, to say the least. Jean had taken Armin's advice to heart and insisted on spending every minute outside of the restroom by Eren's side. They had to room together now, so even sleep was no respite. He took no joy in it, but the thought of a rebuilt Trost Tempest helped him grit his teeth through Eren's foolish bravado and other irritating nonsense. He dedicated himself to absorbing as much information about Eren as he could, from the way he carried his shoulders when he walked to the way his green eyes blazed when he was getting fired up.

It was hard to shake the feeling of wrongness, especially after their practice drifting sessions. They hadn't repeated the RABIT chasing incident of their first drift, but Jean couldn't help the vague feeling that it was somehow a betrayal to Marco, to try and find even a modicum of the partnership they had shared in another, to let Eren into the space in his head where only Marco had been before.

He hated that he even thought that – he knew Marco would never have been so petty – but if he was honest with himself, he was really just afraid that each new memory of Eren's would replace one of Marco's. That he would forget the rhythms of Marco's body once he learned Eren's.

If Eren picked up on Jean's slowly growing ball of anxiety and old grief, he hadn't said anything yet. Jean knew fully well that they would have to address it eventually, but he had no desire to do so.

In the past week of Eren-saturation, Jean vastly preferred their interactions on the floor mats to everything else. Hand-to-hand was a welcome break from the mental and emotional exhaustion of training, and Jean could let his thoughts slip from his mind when he focused only on learning the pace of his partner's movements. It helped too that Eren tended to keep his mouth shut during sparring.

That morning's sparring session in the Kwoon had gone well – Eren's movements were starting to approach Jean's level of control now, and Jean was learning to match the sheer energy that Eren put into every blow. Even if maintaining a civil conversation was sometimes still difficult, Jean could sense the beginnings of a good co-pilot.

“Let's head to lunch,” Eren said, toweling off his freshly-showered hair. “We've been at it for two hours. I'm starving.”

Jean nodded, still in a good mood from the exercise high, but recoiled when Eren reached for the sweaty tank top he had discarded earlier. “Ugh, did you not bring a change of clothes? There's no way I'm sitting next to you if you're wearing that nasty thing.”

“What's the big deal? We were sweaty and up in each other's faces all morning.” 

“I'm pretty sure letting your sweat drip into the food constitutes a public health hazard. What if Levi's there? He'd throw a fit.”

Eren grumbled, but didn't put up a fight as Jean led him shirtless back to their room.

“I'll wait,” sighed Jean as Eren rummaged through his drawers in search of a clean shirt. He idly poked through the nest of paper that had accumulated on their shared desks, in case he had missed some message or another. Dr. Hange was overly fond of printing and distributing all their latest findings or even idle thoughts on the kaiju, and it was very easy to let the exclamation-mark covered announcements build up.

A leatherbound book under an old press release caught his attention. It looked like a photo album, and a well-loved one at that, judging from how wrinkled the plastic sleeves were. Jean hesitated for a moment about taking a look, but reasoned that anything out on the desk was fair game, and there weren't supposed to be secrets between pilots anyway, so he flipped the cover open.

His own smirking face greeted him from a centimeter-wide square, flanked by Marco's similarly framed face and a metallic embossed Trost Tempest with battle statistics printed underneath. Jean nearly dropped the album when he realized what it was.

He hadn't seen a Jaeger card in years, much less an entire collection in what had to be a specialized album. There was Eagle Elite, Gunter Schultz and Erd Gin smiling in their tiny photos. In the adjacent slot was a card for Vanguard Mustang, with pictures of Dita Ness and Luke Cis. His brothers-in-arms. They had been there when he was a recruit, had mentored him as more experienced pilots, and had even fought alongside him before, but in the end the news of their deaths came to him on a shitty TV on the Wall of Life.

Jean swallowed hard, turning back to the first page. So many Jaegers had fallen that the album was practically an obituary page, and Jean couldn't stomach the guilt that those tiny, smiling photographs instilled in him.

“Hey, ready to go-” Eren's face froze when he saw what Jean was holding in his hands.

Jean couldn't find words for the strange emotion that was blocking his throat. He had no idea how to interpret the ache he felt. Despite the years of defeat after defeat, Eren still held on to Jaeger cards of dead pilots and obviously treasured this stupid album. 

He fell back to cockiness to silence the confusing mess in his heart.

“It is a pretty good picture of me,” he said, forcing a smirk. “I'm flattered that you have it on the first page. I can autograph it for you, if you like.”

The mortification on Eren's face shifted to annoyance. “My organization system just happened to work like that! It's not like you have anything to do with it. And anyway, Trost Tempest was – _is_ – one of the best Jaegers ever designed. Speed without compromising balance, a top-class arsenal but lightweight-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean shut the album and shoved it into Eren's chest. “You'll get to see her firsthand soon enough. Now let's get some lunch already.”

By the time they finally got to the cafeteria, the usual group had already assembled.

Jean scooped potatoes and beans onto his plate. The corned beef had already run out, thanks to Eren's delay.

“Hey Jean, Eren,” Reiner smiled and waved to them from their table. Bertholdt was seated next to him, with Sasha and Connie on one side and Ymir and Christa on the other. “You're late today. Sorry I took the last of the beef, but I gotta maintain this machine somehow.”

Jean grinned back at him. “Hey to you too, Reiner. You managed to beat Sasha to it?”

“I let him have it - poor Reiner needs meat to fix his busted arm,” Sasha said around a mouthful of potatoes, patting the sling that held Reiner's right arm.

“We should mark this day down in history,” Connie chimed in. “On this Tuesday, the eleventh of June in our year two-thousand twenty four, Sasha Braus surrendered her food to another.”

“Hey, I am a very generous person, for your information!” Sasha playfully pushed Connie's face. “Make room for Jean and Eren, you big lug.”

Jean squeezed in between Reiner and Sasha, Eren sitting across from him. 

“So Jean,” Ymir leaned forward with a leer, one arm still wrapped around Christa's shoulders, “have you traumatized our newest recruit yet with all your sex memories of Marco?”

Jean choked on his beans. Eren's mouth hung open, his own legume-laden spoon forgotten halfway to his mouth.

“Ymir!” Christa, looking horrified, clapped a hand over her partner-slash-girlfriend's mouth. “Oh Jean, I'm so sorry! You know how Ymir is, she doesn't really mean it.”

“It's fine,” Jean said as he winced and thumped himself on the chest. “It wouldn't be Ymir without wildly inappropriate and horrifically insensitive comments. I kinda missed your trademark lack of humanity.”

Christa gave a small shriek as Ymir gave the offending hand on her mouth a hearty lick. The hand in question was quickly removed and wiped on a napkin, giving Ymir a chance to continue. “Hey, I'm just trying to help! Everyone knows that the overwhelmingly most common reason drifts fail is because of dirty thoughts. So better to get it out in the open, right?”

Eren's spoon had fallen back down to his plate at this point, and he was blushing a dark red. He hadn't been around Ymir as long as Jean had, and so was not yet immune to utter tactlessness. 

Jean cleared his throat, trying to regain some modicum of dignity. “Well, it is common knowledge that Marco and I were romantically involved. But any pilot with an ounce of control in the drift can avoid spilling all the gory details.”

“Guess that means I don't have any control, then,” Ymir smirked, snaking an arm around Christa's shoulders. “You should see our drifts – it's like a nonstop porno.” Christa blushed furiously and shrank in her seat, but didn't shake off Ymir's arm.

“Yup, that sounds familiar,” Reiner nodded, a lewd grin spreading on his face. “Sometimes I wonder if the designers of drift technology realized that pretty much every pair of partners that aren't related start fucking eventually.” 

Eren managed to look even more horrified. It was quite a feat. “Not that you have to, of course!” Reiner added hastily. 

“Yeah!” Sasha patted Eren's shoulder. “Look at Connie and me – we aren't fucking!”

Reiner coughed something into his good hand that sounded a lot like “sure you aren't.”

To his own surprise, Jean felt a smile coming on. “I can't believe I actually missed you guys. My brain damage must be worse than I thought.”

“Love you too, Jean,” Ymir batted her eyelashes at him while Sasha attempted to steal back the corned beef from Reiner's plate as punishment. 

Seeing his fellow pilots horse around took him back. It was almost like three years ago, that feeling of being home. If Jean closed his eyes he could pretend that Marco was at his side, that Franz and Hannah were still there to do their awkward couple thing, that Mina and Thomas were laughing along with everyone else.

He kept his eyes open and shot a look at Eren.

“Don't mind them – they're just a bunch of idiots,” he said, and paused. Well, it was only fair to subject Eren to some teasing too. “Even if you do probably have their Jaeger cards.”

“I just still can't believe I'm really here with everyone. The team of _the_ Atlas Bastion! And Foxtrot Phantom and Spitfire Lancer!” Eren replied, choosing to ignore that last bit. “I even got to see Pegasus Freedom's new team.”

“Levi's a lot shorter than you thought, huh?” Connie butted in. “At least now that he's partnered with Petra it doesn't look as sad as when he was still with Erwin. Too bad about Erwin's arm, though...”

The kaiju alarm sounded, and the lighthearted mood around the table evaporated.

“Speaking of Pegasus Freedom, looks like you'll get a chance to see her in action,” Reiner said to Eren with a grimace. “She's on standby right now.”

“So are Mikasa and Annie.” Eren bit his lip and stood up. “They were just supposed to be trying their first neural handshake, but Marshall Smith did say they would be deployed if anything happened. Are they really ready to fight kaiju?”

Jean put a hand on his arm. “Don't worry. Your sister will be fine. I doubt they'll even get a chance to see any real action with Pegasus on the ground.”

-

So far, Mikasa was rather underwhelmed by the whole experience of drifting.

Her trial drift with Eren had been more confusing and overwhelming than anything else, her own thoughts and worries drowning out the sound of anything Eren might have been sending her. She had only seen a dim image of Eren pulling her out of the wreckage before she was lost in the weight of her duty to protect him, to keep him safe, and Armin was pulling her out of the machine and blood was trickling out her nose before she knew it.

With Annie, there might as well have been nothing. Mikasa saw images from Annie's memories, but it was as if they were preserved in glass, like butterfly specimens. Everything that flashed in her mind was oddly bland and generic – Annie as a child, playing with a doll, Annie as a teenager, on the first day of high school, Annie graduating and enlisting in the PPDC. Despite ostensibly being in her head, Mikasa still knew next to nothing about Annie.

If she didn't think it impossible, she would have thought that Annie was somehow filtering what Mikasa could access.

She had already given up Annie as yet another incompatible drift partner until Armin had lifted their neural caps and announced that the connection was sufficiently strong. 

Maybe all that crap about partners feeling a deep emotional and psychic bond was just metaphorical. Maybe it would happen when they finally saw combat. Or (and she was privately leaning towards this one), maybe there was just something wrong with her.

Either way, it didn't matter, because Mikasa and Annie were about to climb into Athena Lethality for the first time.

Mikasa held herself ramrod-still as the technicians latched the spinal clamp onto her back. The kaiju alert was still blaring in the distance. To her side, Annie was quiet and impassive as ever. The suit made her look larger than she really was.

“Are you nervous?” Mikasa asked Annie.

“Let's just get this over with,” was all she got in response.

Armin's voice came through the speaker as he fussed with the computer on the upper level. “All right, you're going to drift for real this time. Try to relax, and don't focus on any thoughts. Good luck! I know you'll make us proud, Mikasa. And Annie,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Marshall Erwin nodded to the two women. “Remember, you're only there as backup for Levi and Petra in Pegasus. Sawney is a Cat-Three, so it shouldn't be a problem for them. I want you two to focus on getting familiar with your Jaeger. But keep your guard up.”

“A trial by fire, huh,” Annie said. She didn't look impressed. But Mikasa didn't have time to frown at her insolence because Armin was activating the Pons.

Again, Mikasa found herself looking through Annie's mind as if through hard crystal. The thoughts of _the helmet is going to fill up soon_ and _we're finally going to connect to Athena_ came easily, but there was nothing beyond that. 

_Stop poking around for things that aren't there._ That thought was directed to her. _I don't carry all that crap into battle. Just focus on our objective._

Mikasa nodded at Annie through her helmet before she remembered she didn't need to. 

“Pegasus Freedom is on the ground. I repeat, Pegasus Freedom on the ground.” Levi's voice crackled through mission control. “Are we waiting on Athena or do we have the go ahead to engage this shithead Sawney?”

“Athena will be deployed shortly. Do not engage until she's down there with you. Just make sure Sawney doesn't get any closer to the city.” Erwin said into his headset.

“Don't keep us waiting too long,” drawled Levi in response while Petra said, “Yes sir!”

“Initiating neural handshake in three... two... one...”

Mikasa closed her eyes against the Relay Gel rising in her helmet. Every nerve in her body was on edge as her sensation was fused to that of the huge Jaeger around them. She felt the heaviness of her metal limbs, the power at her fingertips.

They were in.

Mikasa raised her hands at the same time as Annie, and together they slammed Athena's fist into her palm.

“Calibration is complete. Athena Lethality is good to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for more Jaegers!  
> Athena Lethality (Annie and Mikasa)   
> 
> 
> Atlas Bastion (Reiner and Bertholdt)  
> 
> 
> Foxtrot Phantom (Ymir and Christa)  
> 
> 
> Spitfire Lancer (Connie and Sasha)  
> 


	5. walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the long wait for this chapter! i have the standard excuses of school and life and whatnot. thanks for sticking with this story and for all your comments/feedback!

It was a strange feeling, being connected to another and to a machine at the same time. Every shuddering step through the icy water shook Mikasa to her very core. She could feel the anchoring of her metal feet on the ocean floor, the snap and crunch of ocean debris beneath every footfall.

“Athena Lethality is on the ground,” said Annie into their radio. 

“Stand by for further instructions,” Marshall Smith's voice came back to them. “Radar shows that Sawney is approaching Pegasus. Be ready to assist.”

Through the cockpit, Mikasa watched Pegasus Freedom break into a run, parting the dark waters before her.

_We should move closer as well,_ thought Mikasa.

_I doubt we'll have to,_ Annie responded. Still, she moved in unison with Mikasa as they marched over to flank Pegasus, bracing Athena against the rush of water left in the other Jaeger's wake.

The audio feeds overloaded with earsplitting sound, and even when Mikasa rushed to switch them off, she could hear the roar of the kaiju through the cockpit. 

Sawney burst forth from the ocean in a spray of water and its own vile acid. 

Mikasa had made it her business to abandon fear ever since the day Eren had dragged her out of the collapsing tunnel. But even so, the sight of a kaiju so up close brought her back years to the memory of the terror and panic that day.

_Stay with me, Ackerman,_ Annie's thoughts cut through Mikasa's recollections. _Levi and Petra are on it already, so don't lose it now._.

And indeed, Freedom Wing's signature green body descended upon Sawney with a fury. The Jaeger moved with a speed that hardly seemed possible for its size, pummeling the kaiju with plasma cannon and steel punches alike.

Mikasa and Annie moved Athena into the standard assist formation, but it hardly seemed necessary. Already Sawney was howling in pain, the dark oceans shining bright Kaiju Blue around it. 

A few more blows to the head and a plasma cannon volley through the chest later, Sawney sank into the ocean, this time for good.

“Kaiju is down, I repeat, Kaiju is down,” came Levi's voice, sounding remarkably calm. “Awaiting retrieval.”

Even Annie felt impressed through their drift.

“Wait, there's another signature on the radar!” That was Hange's voice, shouted into the mike so loudly that Mikasa could barely understand through the feedback. “Athena, watch your six!”

Mikasa whirled her head (and by extension Athena Lethality's) around just in time to see a flash of scale and flesh and teeth before the Jaeger was knocked onto its side. Annie and Mikasa were able to right her quickly enough, but they were shaken. Mikasa reached back through the drift, trying to see if Annie was all right. Annie responded with the mental equivalent of an impatient hand-wave.

“Athena, do you copy? Looks like a cat-2, but the little guy is fast! We're calling him codename Bean. Move to intercept.”

“Roger that,” Mikasa grit out through the spinning in her head. 

_Let's wait, lure him out again. We'll get him on the next attack,_ Annie's thoughts went. An image of Annie's fighting stance and penchant for interceptions flashed through Mikasa's mind. _Just like that._

Mikasa agreed and focused her attention on the murky waters below. Was that a wave or was that Bean coming up for a second attack? It took all her self control to keep Athena still, when all she wanted was to crush Bean out of existence as quickly as possible.

_Patience_ , Annie chastised her.

Mikasa grunted in response, keeping her eyes scanning the surface of the ocean. There... was that a cloud of bubbles rising? “Annie,” she said aloud.

“I know. Be ready.”

This time, when Bean launched itself at Athena's cockpit, they were ready. Like Annie's signature intercept move, Athena used the force of Bean's attack to throw it backwards, following with a roundhouse kick. The smack of steel against kaiju flesh sent raw satisfaction through Mikasa. They could do it. They really could fight kaiju.

Bean screeched and darted beneath the waves again.

“Slippery bastard!” Levi said over the radio. “Try to grab him – don't let him escape again!”

Mikasa watched the ocean waters again, adrenaline sharpening her senses. _There!_ An opening – Bean's tail flashed above the surface. Not waiting for Annie to respond, she lunged for it with an open steel palm.

Annie caught on soon enough, but the Jaeger's response was slower than it could have been. Nevertheless, Mikasa managed to close her fist around the long spines that comprised the end of Bean's tail. She pulled it bodily out of the ocean, hanging on despite its wild scratching.

“Good work, Athena!” Petra said. “Hold him there!”

“Annie, get the chain sword!” Mikasa shouted.

But before Annie could ready the right-hand sword, Bean gave a mighty thrash and kicked its hind leg straight into the Jaeger's head. The two pilots were slammed into the back of the cockpit from the force of impact. Mikasa kept her iron grip on his tail, but she was suddenly dizzy, sickened. She sagged in the harness, abruptly seeing double from the sharp pain in her head.

“What's going on?” she cried, when no thoughts from Annie came through the drift.

“I don't know!” Annie's voice was more panicked than she had ever heard it. “I can't... I think we're off alignment.”

“Armin!” Mikasa shouted into her radio, hoping he was listening. “What should we do?”

“Your drift should still be holding, try to make it stronger. Your connection is weak right now, but still there. Focus on melding your minds.”

Mikasa clenched her hand on Bean even tighter, her knuckles white around the GUI's hologram representation of the kaiju. Armin's advice was a lot easier in theory than in practice, she couldn't help but think with a bit of resentment. How exactly was she supposed to strengthen her connection with Annie when there was a thrashing kaiju in her grasp and she felt like she was about to vomit? Still, she trusted Armin to know the right course of action, so she reached her mind out to Annie best as she could.

But it was like hitting a wall. Each time Mikasa tried, the farther away Annie seemed to get.

“Annie, I think the problem might be on your end,” Armin said, voice frantic. “You're not letting Mikasa in!”

“I'm... I'm sorry, I can't-” Annie gasped, her hands going to her head thoughtlessly, causing the Jaeger to do the same.

“Damnit, Annie,” Mikasa hissed as her grip on Bean was compromised by the action. “Weren't you the one who told me not to lose it?”

Mikasa's arms felt like they were being ripped apart from the conflicting nerve impulses. Athena Lethality's joints screamed.

Bean was well on its way to escaping Mikasa's grasp when Pegasus Freedom sailed through the air in an arc of metallic green, heavy metal fist smashing square into its chest. Levi and Petra didn't give Bean a chance to get away again, firing a rapid volley of plasma into its head as it was staggered by the previous blow.

“Second kaiju down,” Levi said dryly through the radio, but Mikasa could hardly hear him. Her head was a sharp mass of pain, and Annie didn't look much better next to her. The other girl was sagging in her harness, eyes wide and transfixed on her feet.

“Call in an evac for Athena!” Petra's voice was the last thing Mikasa heard before losing consciousness.

-

“I think you owe me an explanation. What happened out there?”

Mikasa had finally tracked Annie down to a spare training room in the Kwoon. Her partner had disappeared shortly after they were discharged from the infirmary, and was now doing push-ups alone on the mat.

Annie paused, body still rigid and poised. “That wasn't supposed to happen. I am sorry.”

Mikasa folded her arms and waited for her to continue.

“The truth is, I thought I could control it. I thought I could bring nothing into the drift.” Annie said between push-ups, her face oddly tight and expressionless. Only the tension in her eyes betrayed her uneasiness. “But it looks like I wasn't strong enough for that after all.”

“How did you even do that in the first place?” Mikasa asked. “I suspected you were somehow blocking me out, but I didn't think it was possible.”

Annie closed her eyes for a long moment and stayed in the down position, exhaling through her nose. “Long story short, my father taught me.” At Mikasa's questioning eyebrow, she pushed herself back into the starting position and added, “He worked on development of the first Jaegers.” Another perfectly executed push-up. Mikasa watched the smooth contraction and pull of her shoulderblades. “He left before the so-called golden age, but he knew more than enough.”

“So he expected you to become a pilot?” Mikasa was sure that Annie had never said this many words to her before. Annie was a puzzle, and though Mikasa had never planned on solving her, she figured she may as well learn more if she was offering. “And he trained you in advance?”

“Something like that.” Annie's lips twisted into a bitter smirk as she switched from open palms to fists. “It's... complicated.”

Mikasa waited for her to elaborate, silently watching Annie do push-ups on her knuckles. There was a bit of a shake to her arms after fewer push-ups than Mikasa would have expected.

“Your form's getting sloppy,” Mikasa pointed out. “You should call it a set.”

Annie grunted and rolled over on her side, stretching out before getting to her feet. She glanced sidelong at Mikasa. “What are you still doing here if you're not going to train?”

Mikasa frowned and decided to get it over with. “Annie, I don't know what your story is, and I’m not going to make it my business to find out. But you heard what Armin said – the problem was on your end.”

Annie sneered. “So what, you think once I spill my sob story we'll be able to drift correctly?”

“If that's what it comes to.”

Annie massaged her knuckles, staring at Mikasa all the while as if appraising her, but Mikasa was ready to rise to the challenge.

“Let's spar.” Mikasa shed her hoodie and took up a combat stance. “Hand-to-hand.”

“Hoping it'll make me more talkative?” Annie's tone was dubious, but her fists still went up beside her face.

“Best out of three,” was all Mikasa said in reply before throwing a punch that Annie was quick to dodge.

Even if Annie's mind was opaque, this part was familiar, the rhythms of this dance between their bodies. They had spent most of their training together in rooms just like this, hardly a word exchanged between blows yet it was a communication all the same. Mikasa knew almost nothing about Annie's past, but she knew the hard lines of her body, the way she carried her weight and used every inch of what height she had.

Annie's focus was off, and Mikasa hadn't really expected more given the events of the morning. But it still felt wrong to see her like this, like a table with a leg off balance. Mikasa got a good hit in to her gut, and Annie grimaced.

“One-zero,” Mikasa said. “You should have seen that one coming.”

Annie put her fists back up. 

“Look, Annie, you know that I don't mean to pry. But this is holding you back. Holding us back.”

Annie didn't answer at first, just aimed a kick at Mikasa's head that she easily ducked. They traded blows back and forth in silence, before Annie abruptly asked, “Have you heard of the kaiju cults?”

Mikasa nodded. Almost since the beginning of the kaiju onslaught, there had been those so broken by terror and hopelessness that they turned to worshiping the very beings that threatened them. 

“There was an ugly case a few years back.” Annie stepped back, her footwork firm as she circled Mikasa. “An entire ship filled with people that went straight to the rift and just waited there for the next kaiju to come out. I’m sure you can guess what happened to them.”

Mikasa dimly remembered hearing about it on the news. She remembered seeing the leaked photographs of the cult members. Their empty eyes had only strengthened her resolve to purge herself of fear.

“My father was the ringleader of that cult. He was the one that led all those witless idiots to their deaths.” Annie's voice was controlled and flat, but Mikasa didn't miss the slightest of trembles in her raised fists. She lashed out with a punch, and it caught Mikasa by surprise on the shoulder. “One-all.”

It was a good hit, and Mikasa gave her shoulder a few rolls before settling back into her stance. She said nothing in response. She didn't think Annie expected her to say anything. She just stayed in motion, matching her movements while she spoke.

“I don't even remember when it started.” Annie swept her leg out in a powerful circular kick along the ground that Mikasa barely sidestepped. She stayed in her follow through position of a half-crouch, bracing her hands on the floor. “When he started... losing it. One day he's working in J-tech, making sure pilots' combat motions translate fluidly to the Jaegers, the next he's leading a ship full of human sheep straight into the mouth of a kaiju.”

Annie closed her eyes and pulled herself upright. Mikasa stayed in her stance, letting Annie make the first move. Annie obliged, unleashing a barrage of punches that had a surprising amount of force behind them despite their swiftness. It was only after this outburst that she continued speaking.

“It was a slow process. I didn't even realize what he was doing for the longest time. I only put all the pieces together after, after the incident.” She grunted as she threw another punch, but it was halfhearted at best. Mikasa noticed the sweat that had seeped into her tank top and glistened on her pale skin. How long had Annie been training already? Still, she got the feeling that she was only able to talk while they kept this masquerade up, so she kept her knees bent and her fists up.

“The long and short of it is, he expected me to become a pilot and sabotage the program from the inside.” Another punch, this one decidedly sloppier. “So he taught me to shield my thoughts, to function in the drift without a true connection. He still had a lot of old prototype equipment that he would use to train me.” Annie let her arm hang at her side and her words hang in the air.

Mikasa stood there in stunned silence. Annie looked utterly exhausted and deflated, like the energy of releasing all those words into the suddenly heavy air had drained her dry, like she had been bearing the burden of her terrible secret for so long that she didn't know how to live without it weighing down on her. 

She didn't see a point to continuing anymore, so she sat down on the mat and Annie did likewise.

“You don't believe in the cult anymore, right?” Mikasa asked delicately.

“I never did.” Annie scoffed, as if irritated that Mikasa would even think such a thing. “I'm not going to do anything to hurt the program, if that's what you're worried about. I want the kaiju dead as much as you, trust me.”

“Then why? Why do you still drift like that?”

“I don't think you would have been impressed if the first thing you saw once you went in my head was my father feeding hundreds to the kaiju. Partially force of habit too, I guess.” Annie looked down, picking at a fingernail.

She didn't say it, but Mikasa could tell all the same. She had been ashamed.

She let silence settle, oppressive and heavy in the room, as she pondered Annie's words. 

“I've never told anyone this before,” Annie said softly. “I'd rather you not spread this around.”

“Of course. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Annie shrugged, schooling her features back into hardness as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Thanks for listening, I guess.”

“It's late,” Mikasa said after another long silence. “We should get back to our room. Armin wants to have us run drift trials in the morning. He wants to try and troubleshoot, I think.”

Annie nodded without saying anything, an answer to Mikasa's unspoken question. Even without asking, Mikasa was sure that the drift tomorrow would be different.


End file.
